


Photon Belt Scenic Route

by RaenUE



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Occurs between games but touches on things present in both, Partly because unfortunately Frey is the canon decoy but also because FE canon is madlibs, and boy howdy am I going to fill in those blanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaenUE/pseuds/RaenUE
Summary: In truth, it so very lonelyThough if this is the beginning of a new dawnPerhaps I can believeOr: Frey returns to Altea
Relationships: Frey/Ymir
Kudos: 2





	Photon Belt Scenic Route

Frey was heading home.

Nearly two years ago, he had fulfilled his duties as a knight and made the ultimate sacrifice so that his prince, the man he had sworn to protect, would be able to escape to safety. It had nearly cost him his life, and by all accounts it should have, but by chance some kind soul had found him and helped him recover his strength and his memories.

And now Frey was heading back to his home.

But…

Was he returning home, or to his homeland?

Sure, he had spent most of his life in Altea, and defended it to his very last breath, but… wasn’t the home he had found in Grust while he recovered just as much his home?

Wasn’t the home he had found with Ymir just as important to him?

“Are you getting cold?”

So much of their journey through these snow-covered birch forests had passed by without any words, and it took Frey a moment to even realize Ymir had spoken. The black and white pillars blended in with the snow below and the overcast sky above to create a scene with no real frame of reference, and it felt like staring at Ymir in front of him as they marched was the only way to stop himself from losing balance and falling into the sky.

“A little.”

Ymir had lent him some furs and they had stayed quite cozy as they trudged through the snow, but part of him couldn’t help but feel chilled to the bone.

How could he not? How could he not feel the impending farewells with every bone in his body?

“We can camp for the night under that cliff,” Ymir gestured off to the side of the path through the woods they were on, “It won’t be as warm as a cave, but it’ll at least keep us out of the wind.”

“We can keep going until there’s a cave.”

And so they continued on, Ymir taking point to forge a path for the still-weakened Frey.

Frey had spent the entire journey staring at Ymir’s back.

He was glad they had chosen this formation. Yes, it made it easier for him to hike through the snow, and yes, it meant that he was looking at someone he enjoyed looking at, but most of all he feared the moment he took his eyes off of Ymir he would disappear. Ymir wouldn’t leave him behind out here but… out here it felt like it was easy to get lost, easy to be forgotten, easy for things to slip through your fingers.

And Frey didn’t want to let go just yet.

Part of Frey _had_ wanted Ymir to stay back in Grust. Every moment he spent with him, every step along the way was another moment tempting him to turn back around and leave Altea behind.

But Ymir had insisted that if Frey wasn’t going to wait until the snow melted, when the journey would be safer for him, he would have to make the journey with someone by his side. Ymir was right to show concern; Frey may have recovered most of his strength, but the journey to Altea was by no means short and an accident out in the wilderness could easily get him killed.

And so here they were, hiking for miles upon miles without a single word being said.

It wasn’t as cold as it could be, so they could probably get away with talking a little bit, but it was important to conserve their body heat as much as they reasonably could.

Frey wanted Ymir to convince him to turn back, to tell him that he needed him, to tell him that he didn’t want to let go. Frey wanted Ymir to put his foot down and push him in one direction -even if that direction was Altea- but he didn’t.

Ymir had, apparently, wanted Frey to decide on his own which path to take. It was fair -after all, in the end nobody could make that decision for him- but in the end it only made the dilemma all the more agonizing.

He always knew one day he’d regain his memories and he’d remember who he had been before, but he expected it to be… different. Like… one day he’d wake up, and there’d be two personalities warring inside him for dominance or that they wouldn’t be aware of the other, but in the end, he just remembered something he forgot.

In the end, that period without his past had allowed him to build a new present and a new path to take into the future because he just didn’t know he already had one. He hadn’t been a different person, he just hadn’t known he was a knight, he hadn’t known he had pledged his services to Altea, and he hadn’t known that was another place where he belonged.

But how could he possibly pick? How could he pick between a country that he loved and a man that he loved?

Deep down, Frey had always known he knew which one he was eventually going to pick, but that hadn’t made it any easier to make that first step, nor any of the steps after.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“The snow around that cave is a bit melted, do you want to give it a try?”

“Sure.”

As they drew closer to the cave the air grew warmer, and though the snow in a small semi-circle directly around the outside of the cave had melted, there were no tracks leading away from the cave.

“Looks like it runs pretty deep.”

“Mhmm,” Frey nodded.

“I’m not smelling any volcanic gasses… It seems safe enough, so do you want to start setting up camp while I gather some firewood?”

“Alright.”

Ymir entered the cave with Frey following shortly behind, and they set their packs down a little ways beyond the entrance.

Ymir turned to Frey as he grabbed his axe and smiled.

“I’ll be back real quick.”

And then he was gone.

Frey let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and got to work.

The ground had a slight slant so he’d have to account for that when he set up the bedspread, but there were enough loose stones lying around to make a decently sized fire pit and there were some large, flat stones that would make some half-decent seats. The cave was a lot warmer than Frey had first assessed, enough to convince him to remove his armor, and before he realized, the camp was set up and Ymir had returned with a bundle of firewood.

“Have you had the chance to look deeper in the cave?”

“Not yet. If you wanted to go investigate, I can get started on dinner.”

“You sure?”

“Mhmm.”

Ymir leaned in and gave Frey a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You’re the best.”

Frey watched Ymir head deeper into the cave as he recovered from the sudden smooch until once again, he was gone.

It was like they weren’t about to part.

Ymir hadn’t really discussed the subject much before they had left Grust, and he hadn’t at all since they had left, but Frey felt bad that he was leaving him. It felt like he was betraying not just the man who loved him and not just the man he loved, but also the man who had brought him back from the brink of death and the man who had dropped everything to take care of him.

Frey took out a skillet and a stand he could use to hold it over the fire he was about to start and went about getting dinner going.

He didn’t know what to make of Ymir’s silence. Ymir was never one to hold his tongue for long, and never one to become withdrawn when something was bothering him, which made the lack of comment on what loomed over the horizon all the more unnerving for Frey.

Was he upset? If he was, why hadn’t he said anything? If he wasn’t upset, _why_?

Frey couldn’t wrap his head around it, and it was driving him mad.

They could talk about it tonight. It was possible they’d reach Altea tomorrow, and by then it could be too late to reconcile.

It had been a while since Ymir had gone deeper into the cave.

How deep would he have gone? How deep _could_ he have gone?

Right as Frey's anxiety reached the point where he was about to go looking for Ymir he heard someone coming from deeper in the cave and sure enough, Ymir rounded the corner seconds later. He had shed his furs and leather pants, leaving him in just his sandals, undershirt and the shorts that he wore beneath his pants, and his dark hair and thick muscles glistened in the light of the campfire.

“Why are you...” Frey’s brain struggled to provide him with the right word to describe a sight that had never grown old no matter how many times he had seen it, “... _wet_?”

“There’s a spring back there and the water was nice and hot, so I figured I’d take the chance to bathe.”

Ymir turned to face the campfire and the food cooking, flexing the muscles in his thick neck as he tilted his head. It was a deliberate motion that Frey was intimately familiar with, and if the meat being cooked hadn’t already made Frey salivate, he certainly would have started now.

“Does the food need a little more time on the fire? I can look after it if you’d like to wash yourself too.”

It took Frey a moment to regain his thoughts and his composure.

“...That’d be great.”

He was sure he was blushing like mad as he grabbed Ymir’s torch and headed off to find the spring, but if nothing else, it was going to make it next to impossible for him to fixate on his worries for the near future.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Frey bathed, redressed, and returned to Ymir.

Dinner was fairly quiet, with the usual assortment of comments along the lines of ‘this is good’ and ‘can you pass the salt’, and as the fire began to die down the two of them cleaned up and prepared for bed.

There was, of course, only one bed. It didn’t make sense to carry two sets when they’d be sleeping together anyway, nor did it make much sense to make Ymir carry two on the return trip when he’d only need to use one.

Frey was a fairly tall man, but there was nothing that made it more obvious how much more of Ymir there was than when they slept. Ymir was massive, and he didn’t really wrap his arms around Frey so much as he enveloped the knight whole.

It was warm beneath the blanket, and even toastier in Ymir’s embrace, and Frey was content.

“Frey, do you have a moment?”

“I’m unfortunately very busy right now.”

“Alright, I guess it’ll just wait until tomorrow.”

“Now I’m curious, though.”

“I thought you were busy.”

“I can be both, you know. So, what did you want to say?”

“Just that I’m really happy that I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you too, Ymir.”

Frey could feel Ymir’s breathing pause.

“...Not just because you might have died otherwise?”

That got a laugh out of Frey.

“What do you think?”

Ymir tightened his embrace.

“Do I need to squeeze the answer out of you?”

“I yield, I yield! Of course you’re more than just someone who has helped me, Ymir!”

“…And more than just someone who keeps you warm at night?’

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you! I love you, Ymir! Of course I love you!”

“I know, but if you don’t say it I don’t get to hear you say it.”

“I can’t believe you sometimes!” Frey exclaimed, flabbergasted – but happily so.

They must have had done this back-and-forth banter a hundred times before, and it too had yet to grow old.

“Can we talk about something serious?”

“My feelings for you aren’t serious?”

“ _Serious_ serious, Frey.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Ymir paused to gather his thoughts.

“I understand why you didn’t, and part of me is glad that you didn’t, but I kinda wanted you to tell me to stay with you in Altea.”

It took a moment for the pieces to fit together, but when they did, the answer, the solution to what had been bothering Frey became clear.

It was so simple, Frey couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because… Because I was doing the same thing! I was waiting for you to tell me to keep living with you in Grust! We were both ready to yield to each other, and I got myself all worked up about why you weren’t saying anything when you were right there next to me, asking yourself the same thing!”

“...Okay,” Ymir chuckled, “I’ll admit that that _is_ pretty funny that it was just a misunderstanding.”

“Right? I’m sorry if this sounds really cheesy, but I’m glad we both… _respect_ what’s important to each other. That village and the people in it mean a lot to you, and while I don’t think you’d be shunned as quickly elsewhere as you sometimes feel you’d be, I know that the relationship you have with everyone there isn’t something that can be found anywhere. They’re your family, and I’d feel bad asking you to leave them behind just for me, but I’m still glad you’ve come with me all this way.”

Ymir paused to process all of that.

“You do understand that you wouldn’t have been able to make this trip alone, right?”

“Hey. Serious time.”

“You dying _is_ serious! If you fell into a ravine hidden by the snow, do you think you could get out? You being away from me is one thing because I can always come visit, but I can’t do that if you’re dead!”

Frey could feel Ymir pout behind him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t joke about that. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Hmmm… to start with, you can tell me about Altea.”

This was another back-and-forth that they did, a meaningless transaction of appeasement that served more to keep the conversation flowing than to mend an exaggerated rift in their relationship that in reality wasn’t actually there.

“Altea? Anything in particular?”

“How about what you did in Altea? You were a knight, but was there any job that was uniquely yours?”

“For the most part I was just a knight, but… come to think of it, I was placed in charge of Prince Marth’s education for a time. It was only for a year or so, but there were some rumors that he had asked for me specifically.”

There was a long, awkward pause before an incredulous Ymir responded.

“Why did that seem like it was an afterthought to you?”

“Perhaps it’s because I’m still recovering from total retrograde amnesia?”

“Even still, I’m insulted on his behalf.”

Frey chuckled.

“I’m sure he’d be glad to hear that.”

“So why do you think he picked you?”

“I can’t say for sure. He must have only been eight, maybe nine years old at the time, and while he was a well behaved young boy, I suppose even the most disciplined children succumb to their whims every once and a while.”

“Any guesses as to why, though?”

“If I _had_ to guess, he saw me while I was training or in the castle during an event of some kind, expressed some sort of fondness for me that only he could have understood at the time, and King Cornelius saw fit to make me his instructor.”

“Anything else?”

“At the time it wasn’t much of a secret that reading history books was my primary hobby, and… wow, this is a little embarrassing to finally realize after all this time, but if King Cornelius asked my commanders about me, that might even have been the first thing they’d mention.”

“...You being _that_ much of a bookworm once upon a time is a little cute, if I’m being honest.”

Frey could feel himself start to burn up.

“Please, Ymir,” he begged, “Anything but that.”

“It’s a little funny that _that_ of all things is your deep, dark secret. Back in Grust you seemed to have a knack for instruction, but I wouldn’t have guessed it was because you had been a royal tutor.”

“Before the war Sir Jagen had asked me to consider becoming an instructor for the knights, so I should probably concede that I have _some_ talent for teaching.”

“I think you should! Instruction should be a nice way to ease back into being a knight, and it’ll give you some more time to get back into peak condition. Any interesting stories about when you were teaching Prince Marth?”

“I don’t remember much of the actual teaching, unfortunately, just that it was something that I had done. I can’t tell if that’s simply because it was so long ago and not much of note happened, or if some of my memories have yet to return, but there’s just... not much there.”

“Well… on the bright side, that just means there’s lots of room for you to make more memories!”

Frey wasn’t sure if that was how it actually worked, but he appreciated the sentiment regardless.

“It’s still crazy to me that you had just barely missed him when he had saved us last year,” Ymir continued, “If even one of the knights had been part of the group that had helped everyone return to the village…”

Ymir held Frey a little tighter, as if he was afraid he’d disappear if he’d let go.

“You said it yourself: I still needed some more time to recover. I’m glad I got the chance to spend a little more time with you.”

“Me too.”

They were quiet for quite some time, but eventually Ymir spoke, his voice just above a whisper.

“Can I confess something, Frey?”

“I don’t know if I’m fit for the job.”

“The other kind of confession.”

“Will it make me sad?”

“...I think it’ll be a little bit of both.”

Frey thought about it for a moment. Ymir wouldn’t try to burden him with anything too heavy, so why not help him share that burden?

“Fire away.”

“I hadn’t realized until after the war, but around halfway through the trip back I pieced together stories I had heard and what I knew about you and realized where you had come from. I was…” Ymir paused for a long time, “tempted to not tell you.”

Frey couldn’t recall Ymir appearing troubled when he returned, but that may have just been because his memory had returned first and he was a bit too preoccupied with grappling with all of that to notice.

“Can you forgive me?”

“For what? You did nothing wrong.”

“But I _wanted_ to, you just never gave me the chance.”

“Even still, Ymir, I think that when at that crossroads you would have gone down the right path. Had my memories not returned, I don’t think forcing me to return to Altea would have been a particularly good idea. It’s difficult to explain in a way that makes sense, but I think it would be hard to… reconcile two sets of memories about the same people and places. Perhaps I would have to go back eventually, but... there was no harm in waiting until I was ready.”

Frey gave Ymir some time to digest that.

“And I can certainly forgive you for wanting to monopolize me for a little longer.”

Ymir, once again, gave Frey a little squeeze.

“Thank you, Frey.”

Frey smiled.

It was only an hour ago that he was afraid that Ymir would never speak to him again, and now here they were, chatting the night away.

“Now,” Ymir continued, “do _you_ have anything to confess?”

“Hmmm… I must admit, I suffered from some _very_ unknightly thoughts when you returned from taking a bath.”

“Oho?” Ymir feigned surprise despite having blatantly gone out of his way to cause those thoughts, “And are there any unknightly thoughts you’d like to act on?”

“It’s getting a little late, and I’m getting a little tired, but I think I might want to fall asleep with my face on your chest.”

“That can be arranged,” Ymir said, flipping Ymir around in his arms and then squeezing him even tighter, “And like this, I can fall asleep looking at you.”

Ymir’s chest was soft and warm, and despite wanting to savor this sensation as long as he could, Frey could feel sleep creep up on him faster and faster.

“I love you a lot, Ymir.”

“I love you too, Frey.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
